Not So Fast, Lane
by I like black stuff
Summary: Lonely one evening, Trent takes Daria for a drive, but things quickly turn personal. D/T shippers, indulge yourselves.


A/N: This is my first Daria one-fic. It isn't set in any specific episode. Perhaps sometime before Daria meets Tom and is still crushing on Trent. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

Not So Fast, Lane

As soon as the doorbell chimed through the Morgendorfers' house, Quinn leaped off the couch. "That must be Sandi," she squealed. Her friends, Stacey and Tiffany, sat still so their manicures wouldn't smudge.

Quinn turned the glass doorknob and revealed a young man with tattoos and ripped jeans. Crossing her slender arms, Quinn said, "Sorry, I don't have any change. I can give those UNICEF kids a nail polish instead, if that's okay. Probably the pumpkin orange one because Waif magazine said-"

"Is Daria home?" the young man inquired. His gaze shifted away from the redhead and up the length of the staircase. He knew Daria would never willingly subject herself to her sister's sleepover party…

* * *

"… Not unless the manicures involve bamboo slivers," Daria had told Quinn earlier that evening. "Don't worry about me, sis. I'll just amuse myself with those mysterious objects stacked on the bookshelves… and in the medicine cabinet."

Quinn scoffed. "God, Daria, you are so lame."

* * *

Presently, Daria was up in her room, hiding. Through the walls, she recognized Trent's low voice and suddenly found herself concentrating on her breathing pattern. "Thank God for all those five a.m. yoga classes or I'd never remember how to breathe evenly," she thought. Shutting her bedroom door behind her, Daria made her way through the hall and down the stairs. She wondered if she should take her time in order to make Trent wait a bit, then decided against it. The poor guy was probably enduring enough torture just by standing in front of Quinn.

Upon entering the foyer, Daria said, "Hi, Trent." Her footsteps were soundless against the carpet. She added, "Your knight in shining PVC boots has arrived." Then she turned to her sister. "Thanks for giving our guest a warm welcome."

Quinn was about to reply when she caught sight of Sandi's car pulling into the driveway. "Sandi! Guys, Sandi is here," she exclaimed. Stacey and Tiffany looked up in anticipation.

Ignoring Trent, Sandi blew right into the front door and into Quinn's open arms. While the girls hugged, Trent's eyes never wandered from the bespectacled brunette before him. "It's getting kind of crowded in here," he commented, gesturing for Daria to follow him outside.

"Thanks," said Daria as her friend closed the door behind her – his arms almost over her shoulders for the briefest moment in doing so.

Trent led the way in the direction of his car. "Jane mentioned your parents are away this weekend and that you might need some company." Trent paused, then made eye contact. "And Janey asked me to pass on a message: Hi."

Daria nodded. A few days ago, Jane had declared that she had signed up for archery lessons that weekend. Daria could hear Jane's reasoning in her mind right now…

* * *

"… After all, I've always wanted to fire an arrow straight into some poor defenseless thing," Jane had said. She had cocked one dark, neatly plucked eyebrow. "Kind of like Cupid, right?"

"And as a bonus, you'll also look much less suspicious carrying medieval weapons around the neighbourhood," Daria had supplied.

* * *

Thinking back to the exchange with her friend, Daria's lips hinted at a smile. "It's not that I don't support Jane's choice to familiarize herself with long-range weapons," she told Trent, "It's just that I wish I was familiar with long-range weapons when Mom and Dad go away for couples counseling, leaving me alone with the Fashion Club all weekend."

Daria heard Trent laugh and turned her head to admire him. She was fascinated with the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, how his lips parted to reveal eye teeth like small, inverted triangles behind –

"Oof!" exclaimed Daria as she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Trent's tattooed arms shot out to catch her.

"Careful," he said.

Daria felt her face flush. "Thanks," she murmured.

Trent kept his hand on her arm until they reached a cobalt blue car parked on the street. The passenger door was the closest; Trent leaned over the open it for his companion.

Once they were both nestled inside their seats, Daria asked, "Um, where are we going?"

Trent just shrugged. "Not sure. I guess we'll let the car decide." As he turned the key in the ignition, he added," I think there's a case of CDs in here somewhere. You can choose the music, Daria."

A few KoRn songs later, the car slowed to a stop in a parking stall in front of the pizza joint.

"Hmm," Trent mused, shifting the vehicle into park. "The car decided where to go, but it must have taken directions from my stomach."

"You're a 20 year old American male. Everything is guided by your stomach," Daria observed.

"It's definitely felt like that for awhile," Trent agreed. He jiggled his leg briefly before saying,  
"Actually, lately I've been feeling like a different part of me has been making most of my decisions."

Daria twisted in her seat to face him. "Really?" she began to say. A.D.I.D.A.S. by KoRn was pumping through the stereo. The lead singer began to sing, "All day loooong, I dream aboooout sex," but was interrupted when, simultaneously, Trent switched off the ignition and Daria lunged forward to hit the off button.

Everything seemed unnaturally quiet for a few seconds. To Daria, it felt like an eternity.

Trent cleared his throat. "So… pizza?"

* * *

One large pepperoni pizza and two Cokes later, the pair resettled themselves back inside the car. Although it had already been several minutes since they had paid for their food, Daria couldn't help but relish that fleeting moment when Trent had offered to pay. He had explained that it was only fair, since he ate most of the pie, but the gesture still had evoked a strange feeling in the young woman's chest. "Then again, it might just be a side effect of that carbonated drink," she thought to herself.

Inside the car, Daria remained quiet. She wondered where they would go next, but Trent appeared to be mulling something over in his mind and she didn't care to interrupt his thoughts.

Trent sighed. "I'm just about ready to explode. I mean, I'm full," he quickly rephrased, checking Daria's expression. It didn't seem to change. "Hey, Daria, you won't mind if we chill for a bit? It'll give us some time to digest."

"Sure," Daria said, although she wasn't nearly as full of pizza as Trent was. Back in the parlour, she had been too nervous to really attack her slice with the same enthusiasm she might have felt if Jane had been sitting across from her.

Daria snuck a look over at Trent. He was slouched in his seat and had his eyes closed. A long while passed without either of them speaking. Daria began to think he had fallen asleep. She felt uncomfortably warm in the car, so she discreetly slipped out of her jacket and placed it on the dashboard.

Eyes still peacefully shut, Trent spoke up. "You know, Daria, not a lot of people are comfortable in complete silence. That's what I like about you – I can forget about the pressure of Mystik Spiral and trying to figure out where I'm going. You and I, we can sit still."

"Yeah, me too," Daria spoke softly, staring at Trent as he slowly opened his eyes. He held her gaze as he lifted a hand to her arm. Daria felt his feather-light touch on her bare skin. "Trent," she began to say, then lost her train of thought. She couldn't remember if she had planned to say something funny or sarcastic or kind, because suddenly Trent was facing her and leaning forward. Daria sat up and, with guts she never knew she had, threw her arms around the hard, narrow shoulders in front of her.

Trent's hands flew around her back and pressed her body into his. It all happened to quickly, neither of them had time to wonder who started it.

Months and months of tension flowed between their lips. Daria opened her eyes and saw the tiniest things: stubble below his cheekbones, his long dark eyelashes. The kinds of things she ordinarily would have missed. Closing her eyes again, she promised herself she would never forget them.

Daria's hands roamed up and down Trent's back. His t-shirt was old and buttery-soft in her palms. Unsure about the best way to go about doing so, she placed her hands underneath and tried pulling his shirt off.

Her eyes flew open when she felt Trent's long fingers touch her hands. Trent broke away, sighing and avoiding eye contact.

Daria frowned. Internally, she scolded herself, "Now you've done it, Morgendorfer."

Trent gently took her hands and placed them in her lap. "I'm sorry, Daria. Ah… you understand, don't you?" he lifted his gaze, dark eyes pleading.

Daria nodded once, although she didn't understand at all.

Daria chose Nine Inch Nails for the drive home to mask the fact that neither of them said a word the whole way. When Trent pulled in front of the Morgendorfer's house, he shut off the music, regripped the steering wheel, and then let his hands fall into his lap.

Daria willed Trent to look at her. "Don't beat yourself up," she said. "Whatever you're feeling awkward about, it's fine."

Trent's eyes focused on the horizon, the way the painted lines on the street just disappeared eventually. "I know you try not to be, but you are sweet," he said. "I'm no good for a girl like you. Underneath it all, you're innocent."

Daria hid her surprise behind a joke. "Sweet and only 100 calories per serving."

Trent looked over and gave her a half smile. "Shit happens to me, Daria. You'd be better off with a guy who won't ruin you."

An image of Monique, Trent's ex, floated in Daria's mind. Pierced, dyed, and tattooed Monique. A line formed between Daria's brows.

"When you got your belly button pierced that time, remember, Daria?" Trent said. "Part of me thought… cool. But this other part of me wondered if you were ready."

Daria considered this. "Maybe I wasn't ready."

The two of them exchanged a meaningful look.

Daria reached for the door handle. "Well…" she said, rising. "Maybe one day."

Trent smiled. "Yeah," he agreed.

Daria shut the door behind her and turned around. Trent ducked down to make eye contact through the passenger window.

"Later, Daria,"

"Later."

After the girl had made her way inside the house, she heard the engine rev and then fade into the night. Thirsty, she headed towards the kitchen for a drink. She passed the living room along the way and heard her sister belittle herself with her friends.

"-So I'm trying this new soy diet-"

"-Ohmigod, I think I have cellulite!"

"-My forehead is so wrinkly-"

In the kitchen, Daria reached over the sink to turn on the faucet. Watching her glass fill with water, she frowned and thought, "Trent doesn't want our relationship to turn rancid, like everything eventually does in the world." She turned off the tap when the glass was just about to overflow. "Maybe there is value in being innocent."

**~ Please review** so I may be privy to your thoughts! ~


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